So This Is Christmas?
by XO'MagickMoon'OX
Summary: [oneshot] Bakura thinks Christmas is a stupid holiday. Maybe Ryou can change his mind! [Happy holidays everyone!]


**So This Is Christmas?**

_XO'MagickMoon'OX_

**A/N: **Merry Christmas, everyone! Or happy Hanukkah or happy Kwanzaa or happy whatever! I know this is a little early, but I wanted to get it out in time for everyone to read before the holidays. Just a bunch of fluffy, festive tendershipping! With slight limish stuff at the end … but not much. I did the typical fanfiction thing and gave Bakura his own body—something I don't normally do. But it worked, so … yeah. And they have their own house, don't ask me how, but they do. I suppose all of that makes this an AU …?

Well, anyway, happy holidays and enjoy!

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_Thump._

Bakura groaned.

_Thump, click._

He opened one eye.

_Thump, click …_

"…"

_Thump._

He threw the covers off and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "What is that Ra-damned noise!"

He stepped from the bedroom, rubbing a sleep-blurred, brown eye and running a hand through his hair.

_Thump, thump, clickclickclickclickclickclick. _

He followed the noises outside, stepping into the cool early-December air. There the ex-tomb robber looked around. There were coils of crimped wire on the lawn, and the irritating noises were resonating from somewhere behind him. He turned around to see a ladder propped up against the side of the house. He looked up the ladder, starting upon finding Ryou perched precariously at the top, draping a line of the crimped wire over the rain gutter.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bakura called up to him.

Ryou jumped and looked down at his yami. "Oh, good morning!" he replied pleasantly, giving Bakura a soft smile.

Bakura scowled. "What are you doing, Yadonushi?"

Ryou's smile faded. "First of all, I'm not your host anymore, so stop calling me that. And second, I'm hanging the Christmas lights," he explained.

"The _what?_"

"The Christmas lights."

"… What's Christmas?"

Ryou gasped, dropping the string of lights he had been holding. They fell to the ground in a heap, but Bakura hadn't even seen. He was watching Ryou lose his balance and sway on the ladder before tumbling from the top with a shout. Bakura lunged forward and caught the smaller boy best he could, saving him from a world of hurt.

Ryou opened his eyes, looking up into the darkening face of his other half, and immediately turned bright red. He straightened himself, muttering fervent apologies for his clumsiness. Bakura dismissed them all, asking again, "What's Christmas?"

Blank stare.

"Hey, answer me, you dolt!" Bakura growled.

Ryou blinked. "Ah, oh … sorry." He pulled his jacket tighter around him as a cool gust of wind blew across the yard. "Uh … Christmas is a holiday … celebrated by people of the Christian faith."

Blank stare.

"Now _you're _doing it!" Ryou accused.

Bakura ignored it. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Uh …" Ryou spent the next twenty minutes explaining the history and customs of Christmas to the ever-oblivious ancient Egyptian.

"…" Bakura blinked. "That's got to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Why would anyone want to celebrate the birthday of someone who died thousands of years ago!"

"… You died thousands of years ago," Ryou pointed out.

"But we don't celebrate my birthday!"

"That's 'cause you can't remember when it was!" Ryou was quickly losing sight of his point.

"So? We still don't celebrate it!"

"Well … Well … It's _tradition_, Bakura! And it's fun!"

Bakura crossed his arms over his chest. "Pft, I don't see anything _fun _about standing in the freezing cold, hanging wire from the house."

"It's not _that _cold! And you're in your pajamas!" Ryou reminded his yami. He looked back up at the house, at his half-finished task. "And the lights are pretty at night. You'll like them."

"Pft. Whatever. Just keep the noise down." Bakura stomped back into the house and returned to the warm sanctuary of his bed. "Stupid," he muttered, yawning, "adorable," he closed his eyes, "hikari," and fell back asleep with three little words on his tongue.

Three little words that he wouldn't be conscious of until two weeks later.

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"_Feliz Navidad,_

_Feliz Navidad …_"

Bakura sat up in bed. What was that racket?

"_Feliz Navidad,_

_Prospero año y Felicidad._"

The former thief got up and trekked into the living room angrily. "Ryou!"

"_I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas! _

_I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas! _

_I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas,_

_From the bottom of my heart!_"

Bakura stormed over to the Instrument of Audibility Destruction, also known as the stereo, and turned it off, none-too-gently, just as Celine Dion launched into another chorus of "Feliz Navidad".

"Hey!" Ryou protested from the kitchen.

"Don't give me that," Bakura growled as he made his way to the kitchen to lecture his hikari on his taste in music. He found Ryou standing before the stove, cooking something in a frying pan. The table behind him was set for two. "I've just about had enough of this Christmas crap! For weeks I've had to listen to irritating Christmas tunes, help you decorate the Ra-damned house with wreaths and little red-suited plushies and wooden gnomes—"

"They're nutcrackers! You know, like from the ballet?"

"I don't give a da—"

"Bakura, stop being such a Scrooge."

"A _what?_"

"A Scrooge."

Blank stare.

Ryou sighed. "From _A Christmas Carol_?"

Blink.

"By Charles Dickens?" When Bakura still continued to look confused, Ryou explained, "A Scrooge is a mean-spirited, miserly person."

"I'm not being miserly!"

"That's beside the point."

Bakura's resolve broke, then. "Ry_ou_!" He slumped down against the counter. "When's all this Christmas stuff gonna _end?_" he whined in a very un-Bakura-like fashion.

"December twenty-sixth," Ryou replied promptly, turning off the stove and dumping whatever he'd been cooking onto a platter.

"But that's," Bakura counted, "almost two weeks from now!"

"I know, it's getting close."

"That wasn't exactly my point, but—"

"And we still have to do our Christmas shopping and get a tree—"

"A tree?"

"Yeah, a Christmas tree. Didn't I tell you about that?"

Bakura shook his head, straightening up to go and sit at the table as Ryou put the platter of pancakes down in the middle. Though Bakura wouldn't admit it, they smelled delicious.

"Well," Ryou said, getting the syrup and sitting down across from Bakura, "we have to go get an evergreen tree."

"Why?" Bakura took his fork and went to stab at one of the pancakes.

"Tradition," Ryou answered simply, reaching for a pancake simultaneously and brushing hands with Bakura. Ryou withdrew immediately, blushing, and watched Bakura's reaction, who appeared as cool and nonchalant as ever, save for the tiny bit of some inexplicable emotion that flickered through his eyes.

"Oh," was Bakura's intelligent response as he pulled a pancake onto his plate and smothered it in syrup. Then he plunged his fork back into the pancake and brought the entire thing up to his mouth, taking a bite, syrup dribbling onto his plate. Ryou rolled his eyes and, with his knife, politely cut his pancake into pieces.

"So I figured we could go today," Ryou continued.

"Go where?" Bakura mumbled through his pancake-stuffed mouth.

"To get a tree!"

"Oh, right." Bakura swallowed. "Whatever."

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"Ryou!" Bakura stamped his feet against the mulch-strewn mud. "It's fucking _cold!_"

"I told you to dress warmly," Ryou said. He looked around at the stout, precut evergreen trees for sale.

Bakura looked around, too. "It smells around here."

"It smells like pine," Ryou said. "I like that smell."

"It's too cold," Bakura continued to complain.

"Do you want my scarf?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Cause then you'll be cold!"

"I'm not cold."

"But you will be."

"If it will shut you up, I don't mind."

Bakura scowled. "That was mean."

"Seriously, if you're _that _cold, then just take my scarf." Bakura watched as Ryou unwound his brown, cotton scarf, his eyes lingering a little too long on the now-exposed, milky flesh of his hikari's neck. He shook his head and focused on the garment that Ryou was handing him, taking it and wrapping it around his own bare neck.

"Thanks," he muttered through gritted teeth. He wasn't the type of person for niceties.

"All right, now let's pick a tree!" Ryou said, spreading his arms to take in their selection. His muscles were pulled taut as he stretched, renewing his vigor, and then retracted as he shivered, pulling his arms back around him. The whole action was strangely … stimulating … to Bakura. Stimulating in what way, he wasn't sure, but he suddenly felt his heart speeding up, and willed it to slow.

He looked around, taking his eyes off of his hikari. "This one." He pointed to a disfigured evergreen beside him.

Ryou made a face. "Bakura, be serious."

"I am! I _seriously _want to get out of here!"

"Hello there, my young fellows!"

The two turned to see a smiling, middle-aged man in a tan, hunting jacket and red cap, thick working gloves adorning his hands. Bakura grimaced while Ryou smiled in greeting, ever the polite boy that he was.

"How may I help you?" the man asked.

"By leaving us the fuck alone," Bakura snapped.

The man seemed taken aback, but Ryou quickly whacked his yami over the head and turned to the man apologetically. "We're just looking for a tree," he explained.

"No duh, Sherlock," Bakura growled, making Ryou flush. How Bakura even knew the name "Sherlock", much less used it correctly in context, Ryou didn't know, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Bakura had been watching too much TV again. But that didn't matter at the moment.

"Well, my name's—"

"It doesn't matter, just get us a tree and let us go," Bakura said.

"Bakura!" Ryou scolded. "Stop being so rude!"

Bakura pouted. Then, Ryou sneezed, and the Egyptian's pout faded into a worried frown.

"Well, if you want me to help you find a tree," the man said, ignoring Bakura's glare, "then how about you tell me the height of your ceiling where you plan to put the tree."

"Well, it's about—_achoo!_" Ryou sneezed again, rather violently. It was then that Bakura noticed the rosy shade of his other half's usually pale nose.

Bakura quickly looked around, saw a tree that he estimated to be the right height and of good condition. "We'll take this one." He led the man towards the tree. Within twenty minutes, they had it bound and loaded on top of Ryou's car. Within another ten minutes, they had paid and were on their way out of the parking lot.

"I wish you hadn't been so rude," Ryou said as they made their way down the road.

Bakura turned up the heat before sliding down in his seat and propping his muddy boots against the dashboard. "I was irritated."

"Yeah, well," sniffle, "you still could have been a little nicer." Sneeze. "And keep your feet on the floor!"

Bakura muttered something derisive under his breath, but obeyed nonetheless, sitting up straight, boots planted firmly on the carpeted floor.

Sneeze.

"Ryou, I think you're coming down with a cold."

"No duh, Sherlock," Ryou parroted Bakura's earlier quip, his tone rather harsh. He sniffled again.

Bakura stuck his tongue out at Ryou, sulking childishly. He folded his arms across his chest. "Sorry for caring."

Ryou's grimace softened. He hummed thoughtfully. "Yeah, sorry."

"Whatever."

An awkward silence settled into the car, the only sound that of the engine purring as they cruised towards home. Minutes passed before another word was said.

"So," Ryou spoke up tentatively, "we better get our shopping done."

"Shopping?"

"Christmas shopping."

"Oh, of course, _Christmas _shopping, because there's a certain kind of shopping particular to Christmas." Bakura glanced skeptically at the driver.

"Well, Christmas shopping is when you go to buy presents for people."

"Presents?"

"Bak_ura_," Ryou groaned, pulling into the driveway. "I told you all of this at the beginning of the month. On Christmas day, people exchange gifts with each other."

"Why?"

"Uh … I guess it's because, according to Christian beliefs, on the night that Jesus was born, three wise men appeared and presented him with gifts." Ryou turned off the ignition, unbuckled his seat belt, and stepped out. "Help me with the tree?"

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"Gah!" Bakura withdrew his hand, waving it about. "Ryou! The tree bit me!"

Ryou peered out from behind the box that he was carrying into the living room and rolled his eyes. "I told you to be careful. The pine needles are sharp."

"Normally, I like sharp things, but this tree is about five seconds from being thrown into the Shadow Realm!"

"No opening portals in the house, Bakura," Ryou said absently as he sifted through the box.

"What're those?" Bakura came up behind his hikari.

"Ornaments."

"For what?"

"For the tree."

"…" Bakura blinked. "Come again?"

Sneeze. "We have to," sniffle, "decorate the tree with Christmas ornaments."

"Why?"

"Because that's what you do! Will you stop questioning everything?" Sneeze.

"Ryou, maybe you should lay down. You don't sound too good."

Bakura missed the small smile Ryou gave then, as Ryou was still looking through the box with his back to Bakura. "I'll be fine," he answered finally.

"If you say so …" Bakura picked up a green bulb. "So, what do we do with these now?"

"See the hook at the top? Hook it onto one of the branches. Oh, wait, we have to put the lights on it."

"Lights?"

"Like the ones outside? We have to wrap them around the tree."

Bakura was about to ask why, out of sheer habit, but caught his tongue and nodded. Ten minutes later, there was a string of colorful lights wound around the evergreen. Then they began hanging the ornaments on the tree.

"This is such a strange holiday," Bakura muttered as he hung another ornament on the tree, one of Santa Claus. "Stranger than the one dedicated to turkeys."

"It's not dedicated to turkeys," Ryou said, hooking a red bulb onto a branch near the top.

Bakura looked around the tree at his hikari. "Then why's it call 'Turkey Day'?"

"It's called 'Thanksgiving'." Sneeze. "'Turkey Day' is another name for it, because you eat turkey and have a big feast. But really, the day is for giving thanks."

"To who?"

"Well, not to anyone in particular. You just recognize all that you're thankful for."

"Oh."

Sneeze.

"Ryou?"

Sniffle. "Yeah?"

"You really need to lay down."

"I'm fine. It's just a cold."

Bakura sighed exasperatedly and picked up another ornament.

Twenty minutes later, they were done.

"Now for the angel," Ryou said.

"Angel?"

"That goes on top of the tree." Ryou took a smaller box out of the box of ornaments and opened it, pulling out a small, winged figurine. He pulled a stool up beside the decorated evergreen and climbed on. He put the figurine on the very top of the tree, completing its festive dressing.

Ryou stepped down carefully and put the stool back against the wall. Then he stood in front of the tree and looked it up and down, admiring their work.

"We did good," he said, smiling contentedly.

"Yeah, I guess we did," Bakura agreed softly, standing beside his hikari.

Sneeze.

"That's it." Bakura turned and grabbed Ryou around the waist.

"B-Bakura!" Ryou blushed fiercely. "What are you—"

Bakura draped the smaller boy over his shoulder. "You're going to lay down and that's final." He stepped up to the couch and dropped his other half onto it unceremoniously. Ryou tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down by his yami.

"But Bakura … we still have to do our shop—"

He was silenced by Bakura's finger on his lips. "You talk too much." Bakura sat down at the end of the couch and grabbed the remote. "We still have two more weeks until Christmas, so slow down. You're going to wear yourself out." He flicked on the TV, which their tree was situated next to, and began going through the channels.

"Oh, wait!" Ryou cried excitedly. "Go back!"

Bakura quirked an eyebrow, but obeyed. He gazed at the TV bemusedly. "What's this?"

"It's a Christmas special. _A Christmas Carol_. Remember I was telling you about it?" Without waiting for Bakura to answer, he continued, "Oh, and it's just starting." He turned to Bakura. "Watch it with me?" he pleaded.

Bakura almost smiled at the adorable look on Ryou's face, which was still tinted pink from when Bakura had picked him up. His beseeching eyes, inquiring glance, all curled up against the couch pillows. Bakura nodded. "Sure, why not?" He stood and walked to the wall, turning off the lights. Then he took the blanket on the back of the couch and draped it over the smaller boy, who muttered a sheepish thanks.

Settling back on the end opposite Ryou, Bakura watched the Christmas special that Ryou seemed to adore so much.

And yet, he felt strangely cold, although it was warm inside the house. He glanced over at Ryou, the boy's face illuminated by the TV, and wondered why that was.

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Ryou sighed contentedly.

It was really warm.

And soft.

And … it moved.

What was _it_, anyway? Curiosity overtook the sleeping boy and he opened his eyes.

And sat up so quickly that the room spun painfully.

He was laying on Bakura! Even sitting up, his lower half was on the ex-tomb robber's knees.

Ryou was barely breathing. Bakura's hand twitched, then moved, blindly searching for something. He found Ryou's hand and pulled, bringing the boy back down on top of him, murmuring something in his half-conscious state. Ryou squeaked, causing Bakura to crack open an eye. Then another. Upon finding himself nose-to-nose with his hikari, he sat bolt upright, pushing Ryou back against the other end of the couch.

"What the hell—?"

Bakura jumped off the couch, running a hand through his hair and taking in his surroundings. It was morning, the telltale dim sunlight streaming through the windows. They must've fallen asleep during the movie, because the TV was still on, playing some infomercial. The Christmas tree stood proud, fully decorated, beside the TV.

Sneeze.

Bakura turned around. Ryou was still sitting on the couch, covering his mouth as a cough followed his sneeze. He looked up at Bakura after the coughing had subsided and smiled weakly.

"Hi."

Bakura scowled. How had Ryou ended up on top of him? Last he remembered, Ryou had been facing the other way. Obviously, Bakura had shifted his position to lay down against the arm of the couch before falling asleep, but even so, the only contact the two should have had in the middle of the night was with their feet.

Although, what bothered Bakura the most was that he wasn't bothered by the fact that Ryou had been sleeping on him. Truth be told, it had actually been comfortable … a little _too _comfortable.

Ryou broke the awkward silence. "Well … uh … better get breakfast started." He went to get up but was pushed back down by Bakura's hand on his shoulder.

"No, I don't want your germs near my food. I'll make it."

"But, you don't know—"

"How to cook?" Bakura smirked. "You'd be surprised."

Ryou wanted to protest, but suddenly found himself far too tired, so he just laid back down and nodded. As Bakura made for the kitchen, Ryou murmured, "We still have to do our shopping."

Bakura rolled his eyes. "We'll get it done," he promised anyway.

When Bakura came back with the food, Ryou was sleeping soundly. Bakura watched his other half, laying his breakfast on the coffee table in front of the couch. His eyes trailed from Ryou to the Christmas tree, following the lights and ornaments in a zigzagging way to the top where the angel was perched, and he couldn't help but make a mental comparison.

"Mmm …" Ryou groaned as he awoke slowly. He sat up, opening his eyes. "That smells good," he muttered.

"I am a man of many talents," Bakura said, taking a dramatic bow.

Ryou giggled. "Who knew Bakura had a sense of humor?"

Bakura narrowed his eyes at the smiling boy.

Ryou just laughed some more. "Thanks." He picked up his plate and silverware and started eating. "Mmmmmm, and it tastes even better than it smells." Within moments the sausage and waffles were gone.

Bakura was still watching Ryou. He cocked his head curiously. "Ryou, you look a little flushed."

"Hmm? Oh, ah … it's probably nothing. Just a little hot in here." Ryou grinned nervously.

Bakura set his jaw, walking over and sitting next to Ryou. He pressed his hand to the boy's forehead. "You have a fever," he said matter-of-factly. "You shouldn't have given me your scarf yesterday."

"Oh, I don't think the scarf made that much of a difference," Ryou said quickly.

"Whatever. Just stay in bed."

"But … the shopping—"

"The hell with shopping, you're staying in bed!" Bakura stood and pushed Ryou back against the pillows, pulling the blanket around him.

"Will you at least … keep me company?" Ryou wondered drowsily, feeling tired again.

Bakura huffed, suddenly looking a little flustered. "Fine. But the moment you fall asleep, I'm out of here. So … So don't expect me to be home when you wake up!"

"Thanks, 'Kura," Ryou murmured as his eyes slid closed.

Bakura blushed at the nickname. Fortunately, Ryou hadn't caught it. Within moments, the small boy was sleeping, but Bakura didn't leave.

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"Tell me again: why are we doing this?" Bakura growled as they stepped into the mall.

"Because it's—"

"Tradition?"

"Yes, and it's nice, it makes other people happy. Can you imagine not getting presents on Christmas?"

"Yes. Might I remind you, this is the first time I've celebrated it!"

Several people turned to stare at Bakura as his tone rose several decibels. He scowled at them all.

"Bakura, please keep it down." Sneeze.

"I don't think you should'a come out today," Bakura said. "You're still sick."

"But my fever's gone and I feel fine. Besides, if we wait any longer to go shopping, everything's going to be taken."

Bakura continued to mutter under his breath. Then he sighed resignedly. "All right, who are you shopping for?"

"Well, let's see … Yami and Yuugi, Jou and Honda and Otogi, Anzu, Shizuka, Kujaku, Malik, Isis, and Rishid, Seto and Mokuba, and you."

"That's a lot of peop—wait, w-what? _Me?_" Bakura stuttered.

"Yes, _you_." Ryou smiled cutely.

"But …! _But _…!" Bakura was speechless. Which was very unlike him. He was always in control, never losing track of his mind or bodily functions, especially not his speech. Finally, he blurted, "Well … don't think this means that I'm going to get you anything, just 'cause you're getting me something!"

Ryou just continued to smile. "I don't expect you to get me anything."

"How …!" Bakura could feel his face heating up. "How can you just _do _that?"

"Do what?"

"Give without expecting to receive!"

"That's what Christmas is all about," Ryou explained calmly.

"…" Bakura huffed. "I'm going to get something to eat." And with that, he marched off to the food court.

Ryou sighed. When would his yami learn? Christmas was only half the reason for Ryou's selflessness.

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"Bakur_a_!"

The former thief groaned, grabbing his covers and pulling them tightly around his head. "Leave me alone!"

"Come on!" The annoying voice of his hikari seemed to be getting louder. "It's time to get up! It's Christmas!"

"Finally?" Bakura sighed, pushing his covers back and staring up at his ceiling. It was _finally _Christmas. Today his torment ended! "All right, all right, I'll be there in a minute."

Bakura wasn'ta morning person.

He sat up and stretched widely, arms extended and back arched, but curled in on himself as soon as he found Ryou standing in his doorway. Bakura narrowed his eyes at the effeminate boy. "What are you staring at?"

"Y-You should sleep with a shirt on," Ryou said softly, turning to leave. "It's too cold not to."

"…"

Was Ryou blushing?

Minutes later, Bakura was out of bed and in the living room, still shirtless. He felt the need to be rebellious and ignore Ryou's suggestion to put one on. Ryou politely ignored it and set a breakfast tray in front of his yami.

"And tell me again, _why_ are we eating in the living room?" Bakura asked.

"Special occasion," Ryou said simply.

Bakura cast a glance at the Christmas tree. "There are … presents … under the tree."

"Yes, there are."

"Why?"

Ryou sighed. "Because that's where they go."

"That's—"

"Stupid?"

Bakura scowled. "Yeah."

His hikari seemed unnaturally quiet this morning, Bakura noticed. He was moving gently, his expression was wistful. It was unnatural, dammit! He hadn't acted like this in a very long time, ever since he'd lost the Ring and Bakura had gotten a body, in fact. That was nearly a year ago. After that, he'd started smiling again, sincerely smiling. Not fake little grins to hide his pain and fool his friends.

And now he was being far too reserved for the Egyptian's comfort.

"Ryou?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sick again?"

"No—"

"Didn't you learn your lesson the first time? You have to dress—"

"Bakura …"

"—warmly, it's cold out. Don't you know any bett—"

"Bakura!"

The ex-tomb robber scowled at being interrupted.

"Bakura, I'm fine," Ryou insisted, though the cold emotion that laced his words told a different story.

"Whatever," Bakura muttered.

After they'd finished breakfast, Ryou grabbed the presents from under the tree, placing them on the table. Bakura, sitting cross-legged on the couch, eyed them uncertainly. There were … two, just for him. Ryou had gotten him not just _one_, but _two_.

"Here." Ryou smiled—not a genuine smile, but that old, false smile he used to use to cover his real emotions. But Bakura wasn't fooled.

Nevertheless, he took the colorfully wrapped box, regarding it curiously for a moment, before tearing off the red bow and ripping the paper off. He carefully opened the homely brown box he'd uncovered and pulled out a figure mummified in green tissue. He pulled the tissue paper off and started at what he found.

"It's …"

He looked up at Ryou, eyes considerably wider than their usual, narrowed glance. Ryou's head was bowed, his bangs overshadowing his eyes, and Bakura could tell that the boy was blushing. "I wasn't sure whether or not you'd like it, but I-I figured that … well …it might remind you of … you know, where you came from."

Bakura looked back down at the weighty figurine in his hands. It was made of an artificial material designed to look like tarnished gold, and though the attempts of modern-day men could never duplicate the authentic Egyptian deities, he could still tell that the statue was of Hathor.

"Ryou …" A smile tugged at the corner of Bakura's mouth, but he didn't let it slip across his face. He knew that a thanks was in order, and despite the overwhelming urge to shower his hikari with appreciation (something very un-Bakura-like, mind you), he instead said, "You know who this is, right?"

"Uh …"

"It's Hathor," Bakura said. "She's the goddess of music and beauty, fertility and childbirth—the patron of women—and the goddess of destruction and drunkenness, and …" Bakura's voice trailed off as he further observed the statue.

"And …?" Ryou prompted.

"Love."

"Oh." Ryou immediately turned a deeper shade of red and pushed the other present across the table. "Here. Here's the other one. It's not much, but …"

Bakura unwrapped the second gift, putting the paper and tissue aside to find a picture frame. It was half black and half white, like yin and yang, Bakura noticed. But what really caught his eye was the picture that was _in _the frame, a picture of him and Ryou that had been taken over the summer. Bakura brought the frame up to cover his face and hide the smile he'd previously suppressed. He felt so strange; he wanted to smile and laugh, pounce on Ryou and thank him over and over again, and he wanted to cry. He had no idea where any of these urges came from, but he pushed all of them down and willed his smile away. Bringing the picture frame away from his face, he turned again to Ryou.

Bakura took a deep breath before saying, "Thank you."

Ryou looked up from his prior fascination with the top of the coffee table. "What?"

"Thank … you …" Bakura repeated grudgingly, feeling heat creep beneath his skin.

He placed the picture frame on the table, and Ryou gasped. "Oh no!" he squeaked, immediately flushing a deep crimson.

Bakura looked startled. "What?"

"I … I'd meant to take that picture … out of the frame … before I gave it to you," Ryou said quietly. "I was just … trying it out, to see how a picture would … look in it, you know?"

Bakura had a feeling that that wasn't the entire truth, but let it slide. "Don't worry about it."

"Well, you … you can take that one out if you want." Ryou reached for the frame and made to open it, but Bakura caught his wrist.

"Leave it." He stood. "Wait here." Then, he disappeared into his room.

Ryou waited obediently until Bakura returned a minute later with two small, brightly-wrapped gifts. Ryou gasped.

"B-Bakura …? What're—"

"Here." Bakura sat back down and pushed one of the presents into Ryou's hands. "Just open it."

Ryou did as he was told and nearly broke into a fit of laughter when he saw what it was. "It's … It's …" He couldn't even bring himself to say it.

"Yeah, well … I know how you like those stupid _manga_ things …"

Ryou put the his new copy of _FAKE, _number three,down on the table and jumped beside Bakura on the couch, wrapping his arms tightly around his yami. Bakura drew a sharp breath, now officially blushing. "What're you … rrgh … R-_Ryou_!" he stammered.

"Thank you, Bakura!" Ryou said into the Egyptian's shoulder.

Bakura pushed the smaller boy off of him. "I don't understand why you like those … _shounen-ai _mangas, though; I swear you're gay."

Ryou ignored him, flipping through the pages and smiling happily. But … that smile … something still wasn't right.

"You have another one," Bakura pointed out.

"Hmm?" Ryou looked up, putting his manga down on the table. "Oh, right."

"Well, uh … this one has two parts," Bakura said as Ryou took the present into his lap and began to unwrap it.

"Two parts?"

"Yeah … b-but you only get the second part if you … accept the first part."

Bakura was stuttering. Bakura _never _stuttered.

Ryou finished unwrapping the present. He pulled out a small, white ornament that resembled a bird. "What's this?"

"It's …" Bakura looked extremely flustered, fiddling with something behind his back.

"Is it a … a turtle dove?" Ryou smiled amusedly.

"Y-Yes …"

"But … there's only one. Aren't there supposed to be two?"

Bakura nodded silently, bringing his hand around from behind him and opening it to reveal an ornament almost identical to Ryou's sitting in his palm. He kept his head down, refusing to meet Ryou's gaze as he spoke. "You … You _do _know the story behind the turtle doves, right?"

"Yeah … turtle doves mate for life, and even if one dies, the other never takes another mate. Two turtle doves are a … symbol … of love …" Ryou's eyes widened with sudden realization. "Ba … kura …?" He looked up from his little ornament.

Bakura was sitting, fingering his turtle dove nervously. He still wouldn't meet Ryou's gaze.

"Bakura?"

Bakura bit his lower lip. "I …" He took a deep breath and finally turned to face his hikari, meeting his gaze. "Ryou, I—_mmph_!"

Ryou caught Bakura's words in his mouth as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against the other's, wrapping his arms around Bakura's neck. The Egyptian froze, eyes wide, before they slid closed and he kissed back, taking Ryou's lower lip between his teeth in request. Ryou complied, opening his mouth. Intoxicated and lightheaded, their tongues dueling in a heated battle that neither really cared about winning. Everything in that one moment seemed so perfect and so beautiful that they never wanted it to end. It was all happening so fast, dizzying and intense. They couldn't get close enough, couldn't get enough of each other. Ryou moved into Bakura's lap, and Bakura wrapped his arms tightly around Ryou's waist, pulling him as close as was physically possible.

Finally, when the need to breathe sufficiently could no longer be ignored, they separated, leaving lingering kisses on each other's lips, reluctant to part.

"I love you," Bakura whispered between pants.

Ryou nuzzled Bakura's neck, replying breathily, "I love you, too."

Then Ryou took his turtle dove, which was still clasped in his hand, and grabbed Bakura's and put them on the coffee table, one beside the other. Bakura had the fleeting idea to put one on top of the other, but the notion passed as Ryou's lips again met his own. His sweet, soft, delectable lips; Bakura had never tasted anything more delicious. He laid back on the couch, pulling Ryou with him. He laced his fingers through Ryou's hair, tingles shooting through his fingertips at the divinely soft texture. No silk could have been finer. Ryou traced patterns across Bakura's sound chest and down his abdomen, feeling a warm sensation pooling in his lower stomach as the muscles tightened and retracted under his touch.

As they parted, Bakura asked, "Ryou … why were you so … sad before?" as he caught his breath.

"I don't know." Ryou inhaled deeply. "I was just … depressed to think that … another Christmas would go by without … being in your arms."

Bakura blinked. "…" _Another _Christmas? How long had Ryou felt this way about him? He himself had only just realized his feelings recently. The Egyptian smiled, leaning down to capture Ryou's lips for a third time.

Bakura gripped Ryou's shoulders and gently reversed their positions, breaking the kiss to move down the other's neck once he was on top. Ryou moaned softly upon feeling Bakura's hot, wet tongue against the pulse point beneath his ear. Bakura moved lower until he opted to use his entire mouth and bit at it playfully. He hit a particularly sensitive spot, causing Ryou to moan loudly as he nipped it rather harshly. Strangely, though, it didn't hurt. If anything it felt incredibly good.

Bakura began to undo the buttons of Ryou's pajama shirt, still tending to his delectable neck, when the doorbell rang. The spell of passion broke, and Ryou opened his previously-closed eyes. He laughed.

"Oh no you don't," Bakura growled as Ryou forced him up. Ryou just laughed harder as he slipped away towards the front door. Bakura gave chase. His hikari had just opened the door—

"Hey, Ryou!"

—when he was pounced upon by Bakura, who came rushing by in a blur. The Pharaoh and Yuugi listened to the two wrestle off to the side, out of sight of the two visitors standing on the porch.

"Bakura!" Delighted giggles. "Ba-Bakura … stop it!"

"Nuh-uh."

"Bakur—_ahh!_" Pleasured whimper. More giggles. "Not fair! Come on … s-stop … Yuugi—"

"Can wait."

"No, _you _can wait."

Indignant growl.

Ryou appeared again in the doorway, a deep blush staining his cheeks. "H-Hey guys!"

Yuugi and his yami traded knowing smiles before Yuugi replied, "Hey, Ryou!"

Bakura popped up at Ryou's side, wrapping his arms around Ryou's shoulders and resting his chin on his hikari's shoulder.

"Merry Christmas," the Pharaoh said.

Bakura grinned. "Isn't it?"

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**A/N: **Again, happy holidays! Hope you liked my Christmas fic.

And if anyone's wondering how Bakura knew about the symbolism of the turtle doves, the lady at the store where he bought the ornaments told him. XD I mean, really, there's no way he would've just known about that.

Review?

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